On my way north I stopped at an AM/PM to grab a Coke. I was sitting in my car when a gal walked up beside my ride. This did not please me because:
- She was ugly
- She was fat
- She didn't look very bright
- She was ugly
- She acted like she was going to ask me a question
- See #1
She told me that she was trying to put air in her tire but she couldn't get it to work. She couldn't explain what "it" was or how it wasn't "working". I finally gave up trying to remotely solve the problem and walked over to her car.
There I found a tire with low air pressure and the air hose. I removed the cap from the valve stem, told her to stick a quarter in the pump, and attached the air line to the valve stem. Air flowed and the tire inflated.
She walked over and said, "Oh, I didn't know that (pointing to the valve stem cap) came off."
I went to the Federal Reserve (downtown Seattle, near Second and Cherry) to drop off a load of bank bags. I always
strip all metal off before going inside with my pen and requisite two forms of ID as the magnometer and I do not get along.
I parked in the alley behind the building (courier parking) and walked up the security booth. The two jerk offs inside were chatting and hadn't seen me approach. Joker #1 then came outside and asked me if I had "ever been here before?" I told him, "Only every Monday and Tuesday for the past 6 months." He then told me in that case I should know
that I had to open my hood so it could be inspected and "don't worry, we'll keep an eye on it." This from someone who hadn't seen me park, exit, or approach. He then made a cursory inspection of the engine compartment and the undercarriage. Good thing they never ask to look in the hatch. This "should know" thing pre supposes that I know what stupid color code of death the Feebs are currently hyping.
A trash truck then pulled into the alley and he wandered off to "inspect" it. He walked around the truck then opened the sally port so the truck could back into the building. Yep, he never looked in the refuse storage area. You know, the big open space that could hold a whole lot of ANFO? What a fcuking joke. They actually give these clowns gun man.
I then entered the bulding (have to be buzzed in past the armored glass booth the jokers sit in) and encountered the:
I showed him my DL and ID badge, tossed my keys next to the magnometer and walked through with the bags in hand. The alarm on the mag went off. I then came back through, tossed the bags on the X ray belt and went back through the mag. The alarm went off. I took off my hat and went back through. The alarm went off. TI then waved me over and proceeded to wand me with a Garret hand held mag. Nothing. Nada. Not a fcuking beep. TI tells me to head upstairs.
I retrieve the bags, sign in, and hit the elevator. On the way up something went tink
against the elevator wall. It was my Super Leatherman, the high capacity assault knife.
Now this the part where I tell you that in my very first trip into the FRB I didn't know there was a mag at the door. Let's just say that the guards there were a little jealous of my toys. They also walked a wide circle around me from that day on. But, I digress.
I turn over the bank bags, re entered the elevator, and exited on the garage level near the guard station. As I walked past SI and TI I tapped my Leatherman on their window and told him to change the batteries in the Garrett.
Work done I stopped to refuel (McCleary to Chehalis to Seattle and back eats some gas) at the Tacoma AM/PM on Portland Avenue. It's Tim Shelabi's place and he always has cheap gas ($1.79 for the past 4 weeks) but it also has a steady flow of vagrants and chicken heads.
I found myself waiting in line behind another Tacoma wonder. The pump finally comes free and she pulls up next to it. First, she does the ATM dance where an idiot will walk all over the station only to find that none of the pay stations will accept cash, only ATM cards. After she returned from the cashier she tried to pump gas. She had parked next to the pump but when she pulled the handle down the hose snagged on the top of the pump. The hose would barely reach her car. She had to stand there and point the nozzle at her filler cap to get the pump to work. Of course the pump kept shutting off because the fume hood wasn't being compressed. I leaned out of my car and told her the hose was snagged on the pump. She either didn't hear me or was too stupid to comprehend my words.
This amusement went on for awhile until some shabby looking dude came over from another car and started talking to her. I figured him for a vagrant and moved my pistol out of the console and under my leg. I saw her give him her car keys and he then entered her car, put it in neutral, and pushed the car forward as close to the front car as he dared. I started cracking up. He then came around to help her pump her gas. Finally, there was enough hose to get the fume hood to compress slightly but the pump handle was still sticking straight up. The pump kept shutting off.
Losing my sense of humor I got out of my car, walked over to the pump and knocked the hose loose from the pump. As I walked back to the car I gave them my best, 'you are the stupidest POSs I have seen today' look. He returned to his car and she pumped her gas and got out of my way.
And how was YOUR day?